“…but why…” her voice was barely audible, her gaze fixed on Kanha. Her eyes were tearing up; he could sense that. Maybe she deserved to know the truth, maybe more than anyone else.
But it was not going to be easy.
Some very powerful people within Mathura knew he had escaped the dungeons the night he was born. The hunt was on ever since, but it was only three years ago they had tracked him down to this quiet little village of Bishamda. He recollected all those faces, the kind looking ones and the unkind who had come looking for him.
“There are people who want me dead,” Kanha said finally.
Diyani did not reply.
“They know I am here,” he continued. “My presence spells danger for all of you now. I leave so that you can sleep in peace.”
Diyani’s silence could have been either a reflection of her maturity or a lack of willingness to believe his words. Slowly but surely Kanha watched her absorb the enormity of his words.
“I always knew you were different. You are not like the rest of us,” she said, her gaze fixed to the ground. “Will you ever come back?”
Kanha could see the visions appear again. “I cannot be too sure.”
“Who is going to look after your father?” she asked.
“May he be at the mercy of the Gods.”
“I can do a better job than the Gods,” she said, her gaze still glued to the ground. “But only if you promise to return someday.”
Kanha smiled, then chuckled before looking at the blue sky that was ready to dawn; the hues of red marked the arrival of the sun, and the morning light now revealed Diyani’s tear drenched face.
He took a step closer to say, “I promise.”